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Bruce_H
Guest
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The Saga of my motorcycle and a ride... May 6th, 2010
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All winter I my dream ride is of Death Valley in the spring, sun and heat, yes! A couple of weeks ago I was going, but there was snow. I waited a week, there was more snow, so another week. Now this past weekend it looked like there would be a break in the weather, Yes!... Not, there was fresh snow on Wednesday. So...
Wednesday morning, Tombstone pass leading to the high desert of Oregon
I left about 10am on Thursday bound for northern California instead. Nice sunny day with light traffic. My plan was Crescent City however I didn't have an agenda and the ride was going well so decided to continue onward. After falling down a few months ago I am just getting back into the ride, still don't know how sleeping on the ground will be. I have a new winter tent to try out and have brought an extra blanket so shouldn't be cold. Onward to Fort Bragg. Toady would be a respectable four hundred thirty miles on the bike.
next morning after breakfast near where I camped...
I have camped here before, right on the cliff overlooking the ocean. It is a crummy bulldozer job along the highway as nothing is flat or level and they haven't cut the weeds since last year. The difference this time is California wanted twenty five bucks to camp. There is no water or showers and the pit toilet is a three sided affair with no roof some thousand feet away. The sign said something about "hike/bike" being only three dollars per person. I filled out the card and inserted my money then set up camp. The sun had gone down a bit ago and there was nothing else to do except go to sleep.
I woke up about one then again at three. At four thirty I got up, thinking about my three dollars and the possibility of getting into a pissing match with the ranger. Assuming there was a ranger to come around once it got light. I was in fact a "bike" as the sign said however I assumed it meant "bicycle" in any case I wasn't a hiker. It isn't that I didn't want to pay but something reasonable is in order. In Oregon I can have green grass on a level field with a hot shower all for only four dollars. Although still dark there was a sliver of moon, by five thirty I was on the road.
after breakfast along the beach...
Breakfast was in Fort Bragg, not much open so McDonalds it would be. Not overly warm, thirty five degrees most places, no fog was a blessing. I meandered thru the woods on a different road than I had come out thinking about what I wanted to do today. I had never been to Shelter Cove on the Lost Coast so thought that was in order as I worked my way north.
It was a crooked road first going up, squiggle sideways, down, squiggle both ways then up again and repeating the squiggles as it wound thru the woods. For a weekday I thought there was a lot of traffic, more that I liked for such a remote area and this narrow road. These Californians think this is a race track and they are the drivers. Everyone is in a hurry and though the speed limit is twenty five miles an hour they zoom along at breakneck speeds. I pull off and let them by, they must be important?
At the end of the road is Shelter Cove, not many people here for the amount of traffic, sure wouldn't want to be here on a busy weekend. Didn't find any food and not much else of interest just a lot of houses. The light house has been moved from the cape above and set up here, guess for tourists as ship traffic doesn't need it anymore.
On the way in here I had noticed a road leading off into the woods, it looked interesting so I turned. There was a camp ground several miles in and I thought I'd check it out. On the way there I passed what looked like a squatter farm. A dilapidated trailer house with the remains of several vehicles on blocks, Bubba live here. As I stand in the camp ground he drives by in a beat up pick-em-up truck about as fast as its tired body and worn out tires can go, squiring thru the woods racing somewhere with what was left of the muffler dragging on the ground.
I suspect Bubba isn't much of a driver this road is only one lane wide, not wanting to get flattened decide to leave. I am not impressed and most likely won't be back. There are nicer places for me to ride. When I called home this morning at breakfast Lyn had mentioned that Andy might be bring the girls for the weekend. I thought I would try and get home.
Although It would be a long day it was possible. I stopped somewhere and took a power nap as today's mileage would be about five hundred and fifty miles of which I still had three hundred to go and it was already mid afternoon. Riding thru the redwoods it was beautiful, all those green trees and no traffic. Most of this part is four lanes of high speed driving and although there wasn't much traffic I was thinking ugg... I rather have taken the alternate route, slower and next to the trees, there wasn't time.
I made good time, just when I came into Coos Bay I noticed that the pavement was rougher than it looked, or... I picked up something in my tire. At the first parking lot I pulled in for a look see... Tires were good...
The saga, my final drive has taken a dump, there was oil over the wheel and what I had thought was bad pavement was my wheel bearings grinding. Wasn't going any where now. I had ridden eight hundred and seventy miles for the two days, the last one hundred would be on a trailer.
I called home and had Jeph get out the trailer. I would have made it home before dark without this, now it would be one thirty in the morning and I had been up since four thirty... Long day. I towed the bike over to the BMW shop Saturday morning, hope they get it fixed soon. I have about a thousand miles left on the warranty and this is the second time the drive has failed. Guess I'll look into an extended warranty or a new bike.
My return has brought me this road cam photo, Monday morning at Diamond Lake, a possible route to get home from Death Valley. good thing I didn't go...
The snow will quit, global warming you know...
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Bruce, thanks for riding along...
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Bruce, thanks for riding along...
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